


Because it's Samson.

by GemmGemm



Series: To get behind the mask. [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action & Romance, Envy Demons (Dragon Age), F/M, Fluff and Angst, Red Lyrium, Romance, Sexy Times, Therinfal Redoubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-25 03:43:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9801206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmGemm/pseuds/GemmGemm
Summary: Story number six in my Lavellan/Cullen series. The hunt for Samson is on! Cullen and Ellana follow the trail of red lyrium in the hopes of tracking Corypheus' general. Told from Cullen's POV.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The length of this one kind of got away from me a little bit so I've split it into two parts. Chapter two will be posted soon. Hope you enjoy :)

Cullen couldn't quite decide who he pitied more, Josephine, Vivienne or Ellana. Now they had finally put Adamant behind them, they'd moved their focus to the assassination of Empress Celene. For the first time since The Breach had opened they didn't have to race to get things in order. The Inquisition had a date for when the assassination attempt would take place and they couldn't act until that time. Orlais had been embroiled in a nasty civil war and they had it on very good authority that the assassin would strike at the peace talks. The problem was, said peace talks were taking place under the guise of a masquerade ball. And their Inquisitor, a guest of honour, was Dalish. While she had natural grace and poise, she was more comfortable with a staff in her hand than she was a champagne flute. So Josephine and Vivienne had the thankless task of preparing her. Ellana had deemed it a disaster in the making. Cullen had slightly more faith in her than that. Slightly. But if the numbers in Varric's betting book were correct, they could expect fire balls any day now.  
It was dark by the time Ellana arrived at his office, practically humming with pent up, nervous energy. After dropping a quick kiss on her mouth he watched with barely concealed amusement as she paced, muttering about dance steps and Orlesian politics.  
“.....and why do I have to know what every single mask means and what it represents? You know, when I first met Vivienne an Orlesian man said to me, with no sense of irony whatsoever, that it gets tiresome seeing the same old faces at every event! How? I almost laughed, I thought he was joking. Bloody ridiculous Orlesian fashions.”   
“Need to work out some frustration?” He asked. She stopped pacing to raise an eyebrow at him and he groaned, “Behave yourself Ellana.” He pulled her staff and his own practice weapons out from under his desk and waved them at her. She looked at him sceptically,  
“But you hate training me with an audience. You know we can't use the training ground without attracting a crowd.”  
“I found somewhere else,” he said, turning her and propelling her back out the door.  
“Very mysterious,” She looked up at him with a smile, frustration momentarily forgotten, “Ooh, maybe I'll get callouses. That'll show them!” Rolling his eyes Cullen pulled the door closed behind him and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“This is a great idea, why didn't we think of this before?” They stood on the roof of one of the higher towers. Cullen was relatively sure they wouldn't be interrupted but took no chances as he blocked the hatch they'd come through.  
“They only finished repairing this roof a few days ago. Could you get the torches?” With a flick of her hand the torches burst into flame, revealing the box and blanket Cullen had hidden earlier in the day. Ellana's face lit up when she realised the effort he'd gone to,  
“That's for later.” He said, with a smile of his own, tossing her staff to her. She caught it out of the air with one hand and stretched her arms over her head.  
“Alright, ground rules: No magic. But if you could mark up my face a little I'd appreciate it, a lady can't be expected to mingle with nobility with a black eye after all.”  
“And risk incurring Josephine's wrath? No way.” He waited while she finished stretching. She rolled her shoulders, took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them again she was focused and he knew she was ready. She span her staff in her hands, shifting the grip slightly and nodded at him. They circled each other with practised ease, well worn steps they both knew well. Cullen attacked first, feinting to her left before switching sides. She batted it away easily. It was all part of the game, slow easy attacks that gained in speed and strength as they progressed.  
“I have some good news by the way.” Cullen said as he backed off, looking for another angle,  
“Yeah? What did I miss?” It was Ellana's turn to move in, bringing her staff around her side, aiming for his shoulder, it bounced easily off his shield.  
“Varric and I have traced some red lyrium shipments.” He brought his sword up high, Ellana brought her staff up to push his attack over her head, leaving her body wide open. She realised her mistake the instant before his shield would have connected, turning she managed to side step it and back off.  
“That really is good news. How'd you find them?”  
“Over confidence on their part.” She brought her staff around her back, feinting an attack at the nape of his neck, the instant he moved she pulled it back around her shoulders, trying to hit his chest, he only just caught it, bringing his shield up. “Nice. They're using trade routes in The Emerald Graves.”  
“They're actually just moving it along roads?” Cullen brought his sword low, trying to take out her knees, she had to jump over his arm to avoid the swing, landing on the balls of her feet she flipped her staff over to block his back hand swipe before springing away.  
“I did say they were over confident.” Cullen followed her steps, not giving her the advantage of distance.  
“Can I get to The Emerald Graves before the ball?” Quick jabs from her staff kept him further away than he'd have liked, alternating between his shield and sword he blocked them but they were hampering his progress,  
“Unfortunately another shipment isn't due until after the peace talks.” Letting her staff slip between his body and sword arm, he trapped it. Ellana had to angle it down to free herself, bringing her back into sword range.  
“Ooh, I'll remember that move, that's crafty. Alright, so it's straight to The Emerald Graves after Halam'shiral?” Cullen picked up the pace of his attacks further, trying to catch her off guard.  
“That's the plan. It'll be guarded though.”   
“Yes Commander, I'll be careful.” She used her staff to pivot behind his back, landing a blow across the back of his shoulders.  
“Good. Hopefully it'll lead to where it's being mined. Oh, I heard something else today.” He turned to face her quickly, not letting her gain distance again. “According to a stable hand, who got it from the cook, who heard it from a scout who works the rookery, your dress for the ball is due to arrive tomorrow.”  
“What??” She froze, just as she blocked an attack from his sword, he pushed his shield into her ribs.  
“Seriously, Ellana?” He laughed. She countered, dropping low and bringing her staff around in an arc at the back of his knees. He caught it with his sword, flicking it up and knocking her off balance. With agility Cullen couldn't have copied if he'd tried, she let go of the staff and allowed her body to go off balance, turning it into a roll.  
“Red lyrium you're fine with,” He let his shield fall to the ground, grabbing the end of the staff she'd dropped, “I say dress and you freeze.” She had hold of the other end, rather than try to take the staff back by force, she slid her arm up and twisted it, spinning her staff over his head until it was braced on the back of his neck, with one of her hands on either side of his head.  
“It's my one weakness.” She grinned up at him. “I win, by the way.”  
“Ahem,” He poked her in the ribs with the sword he had positioned perfectly.  
“Oh.” She winced, “A draw?”   
He let go of the sword, wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her hard, she dropped her staff and he felt her fingers twine into his hair as she pressed herself against him.  
“Alright, maybe not my only weakness.” She said when he finally released her. He chuckled as he put an arm around her shoulders and let her over to the box he'd prepared earlier.  
“I'll be sure to keep that knowledge far from The Red Templars.” Throwing the blanket down on the ground he indicated that she sit while he pulled food and a bottle of Golden Scythe Black from the box.  
“You were joking about the dress though, right?”   
“I'm afraid not. If the rumour mill around here is right, and it usually is, it's on its way from Val Royeux as we speak.”  
“I thought I was just wearing my dress uniform like the rest of you.” She sighed dramatically, “The sacrifices I have to make.”  
“Oh hush and eat your supper.”  
Propped against the wall, feeling sleepy from the food and alcohol and with the comforting weight of Ellana tucked under his arm, he pulled the coin from his pocket.  
“There's a lake near where I grew up in Honnleath, I'd go there sometimes to escape my noisy siblings. Of course, they always found me eventually. The last time I was there was the day I left for Templar training, my brother gave me this,” He held the coin out to show her, “It just happened to be in his pocket at the time but he said it was for luck. Templars aren't supposed to carry such things, our faith should see us through.”  
“You broke The Orders rules? I'm shocked.”  
“Until a year ago I was very good at following them, most of the time. This was the only thing from Ferelden that The Templars didn't give me.” He tipped it into her hand, she leant up to look him in the eyes, “Humour me. We don't know what you'll face before the end, this can't hurt.”  
“I'll keep it safe.”  
“Good.” He said, softly. Pulling a fine chain from the other pocket he laced it through the hole in the coin he'd made earlier, and slipped it around her neck, “I know it's foolish, but I'm glad.”

~*~

Cullen was barely through the gates when Rylan approached him,  
“Commander, you're back? How was The Winter Palace?”   
“It was....very Orlesian.” Rylan huffed a chuckle, “Any news on the Red Lyrium shipments?” Rylan handed him a report as they crossed the courtyard.  
“We just got word a few days ago, they're shipping out early. I'm afraid it's bad news for The Inquisitor. If she doesn't set off tomorrow she's going to miss them.”  
“Tomorrow? Damn. Has she got a copy of this?”  
“Waiting in the war room for her.”  
“Good. She'll rotate her team too, send a copy to Blackwall, Sera and Dorian. She won't want to take anyone that's just been to The Winter Palace, they need a break.” Not that she'd actually take one herself of course, he added silently.  
“Yes Commander. Anything else?”  
“Our contact in The Emerald Graves is this Fairbanks? Send word ahead that The Inquisitor is on her way. Also cherry-pick some soldiers and a few Templars that aren't going through lyrium withdrawal to send along behind her to keep the area secure. Anyone that's coming off lyrium needs to stay far away from the red stuff, it's hard enough already. I see no sense in making it worse.” Looking at the grim expression on Ryan's face, Cullen asked, “Speaking of which, how're you doing?”  
“I won't lie, it's tough. Harder than I expected, but no regrets.” Cullen studied his face closer, there were new lines around his eyes but he looked determined, if a little pale. Cullen clapped him on the shoulder, trying to put a lot of unsaid things into it.  
“Don't go getting soft on me Rutherford, our lady Inquisitor will get jealous.” Maker take gossipy soldiers, Cullen thought before dismissing Rylan. He read the report as he headed to his office, Rylan had been right. If they didn't move quickly they'd lose the only chance they had to ambush the smugglers. Why couldn't they have waited a few more days? The Winter palace had turned out to be a lot more complicated than any of them had been expecting and it had taken it's toll on Ellana. She wasn't eating or sleeping nearly as much as she needed to but this was a now or never situation. He didn't waste his time wondering if he could convince her to send someone else in her place, it was a conversation they'd had before and he'd yet to come out on top. Instead he'd focus on making sure they had the troops to secure the region and preparing an assault on the source of the red lyrium. 

She was doing it on purpose, he was convinced. Ellana had slipped into his office as he was briefing his men on The Emerald Graves and setting up the guard rotations. Catching his eye as he was mid-sentence. She raised an eyebrow at him, giving him a sultry look and making him completely lose his train of thought. She smiled innocently at him but her eyes were glittering with mischief. Definitely doing it on purpose. He managed to fumble his way through his last few orders before practically throwing his men out of his office.  
“That wasn't funny.” He said when he'd finally shut the door behind the last of the soldiers. He braced his hands on the heavy wood with a sigh.  
“Oh, I beg to differ.” He could hear the amusement in her voice and had to fight to keep his voice stern,  
“You're not nearly as funny as you think you are.”  
“Do you think I can't see you smiling from here?” She asked, bumping him with a shoulder playfully as she moved to lean against the wall facing him.  
“I was smiling about something else that happened today.” He lied, giving up the pretence and grinning at her,  
“Really? Well if you'd rather I just left-”  
“Don't you dare.” He said, catching her hand as she reached for the door, she laughed as he pulled her into the space between the door as his still bracketed arms. She leant to up leave a long, lingering kiss on his lips before slipping her hands to the back of his neck, searching for the pressure point they'd learned eased his headaches and the tension of the muscles in his shoulders and neck. He hummed his approval when she found it, his entire body relaxing.  
“How do you always know?” He asked, “When I need that, you always just know.”  
“Because I know you Cullen, the same way I know you'd never take a break if I didn't come up here and distract you. You'd work yourself to death, and then where would we be?”  
“Ah, so that's why you're here. Working for the greater good of The Inquisition?” A self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips.  
“Well, I may have a little personal investment.” She mumbled, pressing kisses to the underside of his jaw, “We all need to make sacrifices.” He could feel her smile against his skin.  
“In that case, my neck and I thank you for your effort on The Inquisition's behalf.” Her surprised burst of laughter made his stomach flip over, he loved making her laugh. She didn't do it nearly often enough. Feeling better than he had all day, he reluctantly moved his arms, releasing her so she could go perch on the edge of his desk.   
“So, it's The Emerald Graves tomorrow? It never ends, does it?”  
“The war won't last forever.” He shrugged, walking over to stand in front of her, “When it began I-well, I hadn't considered much beyond our survival, but things are different now.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I find myself wondering what'll happen after. When this is over. I won't want to move on,” Cupping her face he ran a thumb along her cheek bone, “Not from you. But I-I don't know what you-” He looked away, dropping his hand, suddenly unsure of himself, “That is-if you-”  
“Cullen,” she grabbed the hand he'd dropped and tugged him back around to face her again. The teasing laughter from a few moments ago was gone, replaced by a tenderness that made his chest ache, “do you even need to ask?”  
“I guess not, I want-” The sound of shattering glass made them both jump a little as Ellana knocked a bottle off his desk,  
“Oops. I hope the end of that sentence wasn't “the Garblog.”” He laughed and shook his head,  
“It wasn't.” He replied, sweeping the rest of his items from the desk onto the floor. 

It wasn't the first time he'd had this particular nightmare. Some parts of it changed, others stayed the same. There were always demons, always taunting him with his failures. They started out quiet, whispering from the shadows. Whispers he could block out. Then they'd get louder. And louder. Until it got the point he couldn't hear himself think over the sound. They'd always offer him a way out. There was always a price. He always said no.  
“Leave me!” He snarled, sitting bolt upright in his bed. It took an instant for him to realise the huge eyes staring down at him belonged to Ellana and not some demon, long buried in his past. She'd jerked back when he'd sat up but the hand on his chest was firm and comforting.  
“Sorry.” He muttered, covering her hand with his own before falling back onto the pillows and closing his eyes with a sigh. Not really the way he'd wanted to start the morning after their first night together.   
“Don't be. Bad dream?”  
“Mmm,” he hummed, “They always are. Without lyrium they're worse.” Opening his eyes he saw her brow was creased with concern. With his free hand he smoothed out the crease with a thumb, “I didn't mean to worry you.” She turned her head until his hand was cupping her face.  
“You can let me worry about you a little. Despite the nightmares, is it still a good morning?”  
“Well, that depends.” He replied, raising an eyebrow at her, “What time is it?”  
“It's still dark. There's plenty of time.”  
“Then it's perfect.” He said, pulling her back down next to him for a soft kiss. Long, willowy legs wrapped around his as he pressed his forehead to hers, “You are-I have never felt anything like this.” Her eyes opened and locked on his,  
“I love you.” And with three words she changed Cullen's world. Everything inside him clenched in a grip so tight it was physically painful. He, who from the age of eight had pledged his life in the service of others, finally had something that was just his, something that he wanted. It was stronger, more powerful than any lyrium could hope to be. The woman that lay in his arms could bring Thedas to it's knees if she so desired, and she loved him. Him. He hadn't the faintest idea what he'd done to deserve it, to earn it, but he would give his last breath to keep it. “You know that, right?” He did. He knew it because Ellana had never lied to him, would never lie to him. If she said she loved him them she did. He finally said what his heart and soul had known since he'd watched the avalanche swallow Haven.  
“I love you too.”  
When he kissed her it was with such reverence it made her whimper against his mouth. The barest brush of his lips across hers. The smallest of nips as he carefully took her bottom lip between his teeth. Brief sweeps of his tongue against hers. By the time Cullen pulled back Ellana was half beneath him, her cheeks flushed but she was smiling at him.   
“Do you think if we just stay here the war will sort itself out?”  
“Sure.” Cullen replied, “How bad can Corypheus' regime be anyway?” Her laugh was loud, long and completely unfettered. Cullen decided it was his favourite sound. Until his lips found the hollow of her throat and she moaned. Alright, second favourite. 

~*~

Cullen waited impatiently for Ellana's return from The Emerald Graves, filling his time with training and continuing their research into lyrium addiction. It was immensely frustrating to be unable to help any further with the Red Templar situation. Unless Ellana's mission bore fruit they were out of options. The only lead they'd been able to find was that the Red Templars were using the trade routes through the dales to move the red lyrium. Even with all their spies they were unable to discover where they were shipping it to or from. Unfortunately, when Ellana's letter finally arrived she didn't have good news. Even though they had ambushed several red lyrium smugglers they'd been unable to find out where the lyrium was coming from. They had, however, been able to discover that the Red Templars themselves had come from Therinfal Redoubt. Therinfal was an old, abandoned Seeker fortress. What the Red Templars had been doing there was anyone's guess but it certainly needed investigating. Taking Ellana's letter with him he went in search of Cassandra.  
Cassandra was in her usual place in the training grounds. It was rare to see the woman without a sword in her hand.  
“Commander, what can I do for you?” She asked as he approached. Shoving the letter under her nose he waited impatiently as she read, “Therinfal Redoubt? Is she quite sure?” Cassandra asked when she'd finished,  
“She wouldn't have said if she wasn't. This needs investigating as soon as possible.”  
“I agree,” she said, handing him back the letter, “When does The Inquisitor expect to return?”  
“It'll be days yet. She wishes to investigate some other concerns in the area before leaving. There seems to be some confrontation with the Freemen of The Dales. Numerous rifts are also posing a problem.”  
“So what do you propose Cullen?”  
“I propose we investigate Therinfal before her return. Hopefully we'll be able to find where these red lyrium shipments are coming from.” Cassandra thought over his idea for a few moments, then said with a nod,  
“I agree. As much as I dread the idea of walking into Therinfal again after finding out about the Seekers, I will go with you. I would also recommend talking to Cole. I still do not trust the demon-spirit-whatever it is, but Ellana does. And it does claim to have spent time in Therinfal, it might have some information.”  
“Alright, can you please ask Varric to come along too? We'll set out as soon as you're ready.”  
Cole had been as hard to understand as always when Cullen had spoken to him. All he'd been able to grasp in their conversation was that Templars had been holding Therinfal at one point but were there no longer. Information that Cullen could have surmised for himself. He still wasn't entirely comfortable around Cole. Anyone that knew even the slightest detail about his history wouldn't be surprised that Cullen hadn't wanted him in Skyhold. Ellana trusted him though and since Cullen trusted her he hadn't argued.   
The fear in Cole's eyes had been clear when Cullen had spoken to him of Therinfal, but when Cullen had said they were going Cole had insisted upon joining them. To help, he'd said. Cullen could respect that.  
He'd sent a quick note off to Ellana before they'd left, telling her what was going on. He was hoping they'd make it back to Skyhold before she returned from The Emerald Graves, this was, primarily, a reconnaissance mission. It shouldn't take too long.

From the outside it looked as though Cole had been right, the fortress certainly looked abandoned. Nobody answered their hails, the banners hanging from the walls were sodden and torn. The trees and shrubs had already started to reclaim the place, ivy covered the walls unchecked. The light drizzle turned to real rain as they made their way inside the outer gates. Despite appearances Cullen couldn't shake the feeling they were being watched, the hairs on the back of his neck raised as he peered closely into the shadows. Something here wasn't right. Cole was more jumpy than usual, muttering to himself in the ethereal way he did. Varric did what he could to comfort him but his anxiety seemed to grow with every step.  
They came to a sudden halt as they entered the courtyard. Bodies in Templar uniforms scattered the ground. They had been abandoned as surely as the fortress. Some lifeless fingers still clung to swords and bows while others were unarmed. They hadn't even had the chance to reach their weapons before death had claimed them. Wind blew ghostly whispers through the gables, that and the drops of rain the only sounds in a courtyard that had once rang with the cacophony of one of the most respected orders in Thedas. A chill that had nothing to do with the weather raced down Cullen's neck, settling in the small of his back. This had been his order, his life before The Inquisition. Whatever his feelings toward The Chantry, these had once been his brothers and sisters. The cause to which he had pledged his life hanging in ruins. Cullen hoped he wouldn't recognise the man as he rolled the closest dead Templar onto his back,  
“These are regular Templars. No sign of red lyrium corruption.” he muttered.  
“They tried to run.” Cole whispered, “They wanted no part in any of it. They didn't trust the red ones.”  
“So the Red Templars were here.” Cullen said, getting back to his feet and forcing himself to focus on the matter at hand and not the myriad of what-if questions that were flying through his mind. “Let's hope they left something behind.”  
Pushing the large doors open they headed into the hall. It was dark and damp even in here, and certainly much colder. More bodies lay across the ground here too. More good men and women cut down, Cullen thought bitterly. A few Red Templar corpses were among them but not nearly enough. Nothing stirred and the air was stale, nobody had walked these halls in some time.  
“This cant be all of them.” Cassandra said, her voice was muted but even so it seemed too loud as it echoed off the stone walls. “There were many at Haven but it can't have been the whole order.”  
“Some resisted,” replied Cole, “Many more tried but they couldn't. Needles in their heads. Needling. They need the song. The lyrium sings to them, the red lyrium is louder. The needles made them thirsty. It hurts. Hands like ice. Need to drink. Take the red or face the needles.”   
“Wait. You mean to say they withheld normal lyrium so the Templars had to take the red lyrium instead?” Cassandra asked him, revulsion in her voice.  
“Sounds like something The Chantry would do.” Varric muttered. Cassandra glared at him but said nothing. Cullen's feeling of mournful anguish gave way to blessed anger. Coryepheus had done this and Samson had offered his own brothers and sisters up to him on a platter. Teeth ground so tightly together he couldn't have spoken if he'd tried, he led them on in silence.   
The first few rooms and corridors revealed nothing but more dead, before long they found another courtyard with doors to smaller buildings all around. The first door they tried was locked, Cullen stepped aside to allow Varric to pick it.  
“I think this is the Knight-Captains office,” Cullen said, “If anyone knew about the red lyrium it will have been him.”  
The stench when Varric opened the door was overwhelming. A body had been dumped in a corner. Holding his breath Cullen pulled back the sheet of fabric that had been dropped over it,  
“Maker,” he whispered, “This was Knight-Vigilant Trentwatch. I'd thought him dead at The Conclave.” This body was older than the other ones they had found, decay had already set in. If not for the sigil on his armour Cullen may not have recognised him at all.  
“As did I. It appears that wasn't the case.” Cassandra was rifling through paper work on the desk, “Here is a letter the Knight-Vigilant must have dropped. It's from Lord Seeker Lucius, asking him to meet a man named Knight-Captain Denam. At night, alone and saying not to tell any of the other Templars. Maker, what have you done Lucius?”  
“Did the Lord Seeker and Denam do this?” Varric asked,   
“We're only going to find answers to that inside.” Cullen answered. He pulled a Templar banner from the wall and draped it over the Knight-Vigilant. Murmuring a quiet prayer for the departed under his breath. 

The further inside they went the more red lyrium they found. Crates of the stuff that had been left behind had burst as the lyrium grew. Even with all the progress Cullen had made on his own addiction the lyrium still sang to him. Cole had been right, it was louder. He clenched his fists as he tried to block it out.  
“It only sings if you let it.” Cole said, pitching his voice low so only Cullen could hear. “It's strong. Think of something stronger.”  
He thought of Ellana. It helped.  
More devastation awaited them. Nothing moved as they explored the fortress, finding just ghosts and letters. Through other peoples accounts they were able to piece together what had happened. After The Conclave Lord Seeker Lucius and Knight-Captain Denam had taken over. They'd restricted lyrium to The Templars, especially the ones who were addicted, and the lyrium they had acquired had been of low quality. It wouldn't have been enough to quell the symptoms of addiction. They had then slowly started introducing red lyrium, starting with the officers. By the time the regular Templars discovered what was happening it would be too late. Everyone in charge would already be infected. The officers then introduced it into normal circulation, encouraging it's use, going so far as to reward the use of red lyrium through higher quality rations and lighter duties. They found notes signed from Samson himself, encouraging their actions and damning The Chantry. It wasn't until they found the office that was used by Lord Seeker Lucius that they discovered the information they needed. They found a letter from Samson, the red lyrium was being mined in a remote area of Emprise du Lion.  
“This is it.” Cullen said, “It's coming from a mine near Sarnia. I wonder why no one in that town has requested The Inquisitions help if Red Templars are around?”  
“Do you really want the answer to that Curly?” Varric asked. Dread curled in Cullen stomach at the thought, no, he probably didn't.

Mission accomplished they headed back through the fortress, Cullen already mentally making plans to recover the bodies of the fallen Templars to see them laid to rest properly. Cole's voice interrupted his thoughts,  
“Somebody's here.” He said,  
“Who? The Templars?”   
“No. Something else.” The certainty in Cole's voice had them all drawing their weapons as the approached the final courtyard. A single figure stood out in the open with their back to them. The wind lifting damp, silver hair to blow around the persons head.  
“It's The Inquisitor.” Cassandra said, moving to put her sword away as she stepped forward,  
“Enlea?” Varric asked, “What are you doing here?”  
Cullen hadn't moved yet, the not-right feeling he'd had since their arrival had his instincts screaming at him. Everything here was wrong, something had been watching them, measuring them. He'd stopped trusting his instincts after Kirkwall, Ellana had been helping him to learn to trust himself again. Right now his intuition was crying out that this wasn't what it looked like,   
“Stop.” He commanded, “That's not Ellana, I don't know what that is.”  
As if on cue the creature imitating Ellana turned. It looked just like her, everything except the eyes. It hadn't got the colour quite right, they had the eerie grey cast of the dead that had littered the fortress and seemed to shine with a malevolence he'd never witnessed in Ellana.  
“It's a demon.” Cole said, “Envy.”  
“Ah, Compassion.” Cullen shuddered as it addressed Cole. The voice was even hers, but hers had never sounded so empty, almost hollow. “Why have you returned? There is nothing left for you to help here.”  
“Your doing no doubt.” Cassandra spat at the creature,  
“Not my doing alone.” Envy replied, tilting it's head to the side. “He failed. The Lord Seeker was weak. He was supposed to bring her here. I was supposed to learn. I should have had a new face, a new destiny. The world I was going to create, it would have been glorious.” Cullen felt his blood turn to ice as he realised the demons plan.  
“You were going to become Ellana?”  
“The Inquisition was to be mine. I would have accomplished so much. But this is a nice consolation prize. Let us see what I can learn from you.”   
With a screech Ellana vanished and the creature took it's true form. The hideous demon was impossibly tall, legs and two sets of arms longer than most full grown men unfolded from unnatural angles. Pale, sickly skin stretched tight over bones jutting sharply from it's joints. It's mouth took up most of the monsters face, the rest of which looked as though it had been torn apart and crudely stitched back together. It screamed before disappearing into the ground and reappearing at Cullen's feet. It slashed out with it's huge hands, nails as long and sharp as daggers scrapped along his shield. The others sprang into action immediately. Bolts bombarded it as Cassandra and Cole advanced, weapons at the ready. They hacked and slashed as they avoided the giants sweeps of it's arms but within moments in vanished again. Cullen frantically scanned the courtyard for it before spotting the demon in a corner, it had erected a magical barrier in front of itself and conjured spirits of long dead Templars to fight in its stead.  
“Envy is a coward,” Cullen yelled to the others, “But it is clever. Do not let it hide. It will try to manipulate you.”  
He rushed the nearest spirit Templar, knocking it off balance with his shield before plunging in with his sword. The Templar vanished in a puff of smoke.  
“What is it you're looking for Seeker?” Envy's voice rang across the courtyard, “Do you really think the Seekers of Truth survive? That they deserve to survive? The things we could teach each other; the Lord Seeker told me so much. Don't you want to learn?”  
“Ignore it.” Cullen shouted over his shoulder as he slew another Templar spirit. An arrow hit the ground over his shoulder, only just missing him. Throwing his shield up he charged the archer, quickly dispatching it. Varric had found high ground by climbing some scaffolding and was raining bolts from his crossbow at the demons barrier, it finally shattered under the assault and Envy emerged once again. The monstrous form held them at bay with it's extended reach, slashing at them with it's huge hands. Cullen had just moved through it's guard when it vanished into the ground once more. Safe behind another magical barrier it conjured more spirits to it's aid.  
“Dwarf!” It screeched at Varric, “You're curious about the red lyrium, do you want to know how to cure it's effects? It can be done you know.”  
“If a spirit of justice can't do it, then you've no chance ugly.” Varric shouted back. They were in a rhythm now, within moments the spirits had been vanquished and only Envy remained. As it's barrier broke it emerged in Ellana's form.   
Hardening himself against it and reminding himself it wasn't her, he rushed forward to meet it. It was able to imitate her spells but, thankfully, not at their full power. It sent a freezing spell in his direction, he dived to the side and avoided it. Cassandra raced in from the other side as one of Varric's bolts hit it in the leg. He got to his feet as Cassandra was thrown backwards. Not letting it gain momentum he charged with his shield in front of him, knocking the demon to the cobbles. An instant later it vanished into the ground again. Cullen felt the air shift as it reappeared directly behind him. Spinning he hit it with the flat of his blade and the demon crumpled. It looked at him with Ellana's face, Cullen looked away as he pushed his sword down with all his strength, forcing it into the creatures chest. He was breathing hard as the others approached. Focused on them rather than the still form at his feet, it somehow looked more like her now it was dead, he took note of the small wounds they were all nursing. Luckily none of them had any lasting injuries, plenty of new nightmare material but at least they'd live to see their nightmares. Small mercies, right?   
“Come on,” Cullen said, “We're done here.” It didn't feel like much of a victory as they silently left Therinfal Redoubt, but they'd got what they'd come for. They'd discovered where the red lyrium was being mined.

It was late when they finally arrived back at Skyhold. Cassandra, Varric and Cole bade Cullen goodnight at the gate and made their way off to their own quarters. The guards on watch greeted him with salutes as he approached their station,  
“All quiet?” He asked the man in charge of the night shift,  
“Yes Sir, you'll be the first to know if anything changes. The Inquisitor and her party arrived a few hours ago,” he said before Cullen could ask, “All present and accounted for.”  
Cullen flicked through the reports the officer handed him and took half a dozen steps towards his office before changing his mind and turning towards the main building. It was already late, the reports could wait a few more hours. The great hall was abandoned so no one was around to see him let himself into Ellana's quarters.  
She'd fallen asleep fully clothed and on top of her sheets. Cullen felt his chest loosen for the first time since leaving Therinfal. He knew Envy was just a clever mimic. Still, some images were harder to shake than others. She'd been trying to keep herself awake with paperwork, the evidence of which was spread out on the bed around her. Shifting the papers and folders to the floor, he dropped the heavy cloak and plate that made up his armour onto the sofa, and joined her, pulling her into the curve of his body. She shifted in her sleep before relaxing back against him. Running light kisses up the side of her neck he stopped when he heard her breath catch as he found the sensitive spot where her neck joined her shoulder,  
“You awake?” He asked in a whisper,  
“Not yet.” She whispered back, “Try again.” He smiled and went back to her neck, she shivered when he reached her ear, “OK, I'm awake .” He was laughing when she rolled over to face him.  
“I'm glad you're back.” She said, running her fingers along his unshaven jaw, “I was starting to worry.”  
“And I'd have no idea what that feels like.” Cullen replied dryly,  
“Alright, point made.” She chuckled before looking at him seriously, “How was Therinfal?”  
“We got what we needed. The lyrium is being mined near a small town called Sarnia. It's high up in the mountains, cut off from most places in the winter. Which is why we've not heard anything from them before now. That's the innocent explanation and hopefully the correct one. Of course, knowing our luck, it won't be.” He tried to keep his tone light but was, apparently, not fooling her. She prodded him in the chest but her voice was gentle when she said,  
“That wasn't what I meant.”   
“I know. It was...insightful.” He answered, taking her hand in his own he slid his thumb under it to sweep across her palm.  
“How so?”  
“The only living thing we found there was an Envy demon. It seems that Lucius was to bring you there, it would then imitate you and take over The Inquisition.”  
“What? Seriously?” She asked with raised brows.  
“That seems to have been it's plan, yes.”  
“Well, that's just creepy.” She said with a shudder.  
“Demon.” He reminded her.  
“Yeah, but still.”  
“Don't worry, Envy isn't going to be attempting that trick again.” He repressed the image of killing it while it was in Ellana's form. He had no intention of telling her, one of them with that mental image was more than enough.   
“So how is this insightful?”   
“Therinfal got me thinking.” He rolled onto his back, pulling Ellana with him to rest her cheek against his chest. She remained quiet, giving him time to put his thoughts into words. Nimble fingers slipped under the loose lacing of his tunic to trace lazy patterns on his skin. “They purposely infected The Templars with red lyrium. Starting with the higher ranking officers then letting it filter down to the others. Most of them wouldn't have had a choice, they wouldn't have even thought to question what was going on. They were just following orders, they trusted their officers. Why wouldn't they? If things had turned out differently I-I don't know. The Red Templars need to be stopped but it's so easy to just see the monsters Corypheus and Samson have turned them into. To forget that underneath that corruption in a man or woman that pledged their lives to helping people. I'll have known some of them. Hell, if my life had gone differently I might have been one of them.” The hand on his chest stilled and he felt her stiffen against him.   
“Maker, that had never occurred to me. You, Cass, Leliana, Josie, you are The Inquisition. I can't even imagine you not being here.” She winced, “I'd have never got them out of Haven if you hadn't been there.” She finished softly.   
“You'd have found a way.” Cullen leaned forward to place a kiss on her forehead, “How about you? Do you ever think about how your life would have been different? If you'd never been at The Conclave?”  
“Not really. I'd still be a nomad wandering the forest, more than likely.”  
“Do you miss it?” He'd never thought to ask before. She was the only one here that hadn't volunteered, that hadn't had a choice.   
“The forest?” She leant on one elbow, propping her chin on her hand to look at him, “In the beginning I guess. Before The Conclave I'd never been away from my clan. But I have a new clan now, a new family. And a home, I've never had a home before. Don't worry, I'm exactly where I want to be. I know we're at war but I've got a lot to be grateful for.”  
“And the anchor? The self-proclaimed God, personally hunting you down?” Ellana shrugged,  
“Without them I'd have never met you.” She tilted her face down to kiss him, “Totally worth it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Story number six in my Lavellan/Cullen series. The hunt for Samson is on! Cullen and Ellana follow the trail of red lyrium in the hopes of tracking Corypheus' general. Told from Cullen's POV.

Where before they'd been scrambling for information, now they could barely keep up. They were getting almost constant correspondence from Ellana's field team in Sarnia. Not that Cullen was complaining of course. Everything they could find about red lyrium was one more weapon they could use against Corypheus. The Red Templars didn't know they'd been to Therinfal, so Ellana had been able to take the mine completely by surprise, leaving The Red Templars with no time to get rid of pertinent information. They were keeping their fingers crossed that she'd be able to find a location for their headquarters. They had to be out there somewhere. She hadn't found it yet, but the data she'd sent them about the red lyrium itself was vast enough that Cullen had to recruit Dorian, Varric and Dagna to help sort and catalogue it. They'd commandeered a quiet corner of the great hall and pushed a few tables together. Their daytime hours were already full with their current duties so they'd taken to meeting in the evenings, often working long into the night.  
The hall was quiet without the chatter of the nobles and other people that lingered there during the day. Their voices echoed from the stone walls, even the sound of pages being turned was amplified. It was vaguely reminiscent of the circle but Cullen found he didn't mind. There was quiet camaraderie around the table, the four of them working by candlelight toward a common goal.  
“This is vile.” Varric muttered, tossing the paper he'd been reading down on the table with a look of disgust. Silently Dorian leaned over and filled Varric's glass from the bottle on the table.  
“I read that one earlier,” he said in response to Varric's raised eyebrow, “That's why we've got the good wine.”  
“It was that or listen to Dorian complain about the ale,” Cullen chimed in, “I picked the lesser of two evils.”  
“And we all appreciate it.” Dorian said, finishing off the wine in his own glass.  
“Alright, so let me get this straight,” Cullen said, leaning back in his chair and pinching the bridge of his nose, the beginning of a headache was brewing behind his eyes, “The Red Templars buy this mine legitimately, hire people from the town to work it for them and wait for them to become infected.”  
“That's how it started anyway. The Red Templars got impatient and started infecting people directly.” Varric added, indicating the paper he'd thrown down earlier.  
“Then they harvest them.” Cullen finished. “Maker, I'd feel better if we knew more about how red lyrium works. How does it end up growing out of people? We've been calling it an infection but is that accurate? We've seen it grow in the ground as well.”  
“In the Temple of Sacred ashes, Solas said that the red lyrium had infected the normal lyrium growing under the temple.” Varric replied,  
“Then how does something infect normal lyrium? I thought it was a mineral.”  
“Normally you'd be right.” Dagna spoke up, “Remember that red lyrium isn't new, just because most of us haven't seen it before doesn't mean it never existed. It's always been there, it's just very rare. I think we're looking at it slightly incorrectly, while infection seems the correct term for when it interacts with a person, it's more of a corruption when it interacts with normal lyrium.”  
“It doesn't seem that rare to me,” Dorian said, “We've seen it grow all over Ferelden and Orlais.”  
“Think of it like a disease. Lyrium veins run underground, some dwarven scholars believe it's the life blood of the world, that it's a living thing. If the corruption spreads into one of these veins it can travel along it, infecting the entire vein. I suppose the Red Templars could be intentionally infecting any veins of normal lyrium they can find.”  
“So if it's a disease, could it be cured?” Cullen asked,  
“In a person? I guess so, up to a certain point, until the corruption has spread so far. However, red lyrium is even more addictive and dangerous than the regular stuff, stopping could almost be as deadly as taking it. Curing a lyrium vein? I have no idea. If The Inquisitor could get me some samples then-”  
“No.” Varric interrupted, “No way, we are absolutely not bringing that stuff into Skyhold.”  
“I'm talking tiny samples here Varric. Dust would be enough.”  
“I've seen what it can do. Even in small quantities. It's evil. You won't know your infected until it's too late.”  
“I'm not stupid Varric. I can work it safely. As a dwarf I have a higher resistance-”  
“Not to the red stuff you don't, trust me. We are not-”  
“I agree with you Varric, but we might not have a choice.” Cullen jumped in, hoping to stop their argument, “We'll leave that decision to The Inquisitor but we need some way to combat it. Maybe even a way to reverse it's effects all together.”  
“Alright just-just be careful.” Varric relented,  
“I'd appreciate any advice you can give me.” Dagna said, with a small smile in his direction. Crisis averted for now, Cullen sighed as he pulled the latest folder of information toward him. The first few words made him forget all about his headache.  
“Maddox.”  
“Maddox? Why do I feel like I know that name?” Varric asked.  
“Maddox was a tranquil in Kirkwall.” Cullen answered,  
“That's right, I remember Blondie talking about him. What's he doing in Sarnia?”  
“He's not in Sarnia any longer but he is with The Red Templars, he built Samson's armour.” He pulled the sheet out about Samson's armour and passed it into Dagna's eagerly awaiting hand.  
“But who is he?” Dorian asked.  
“It's complicated,” Cullen said, rubbing the back of his neck, “Maddox was a mage in Kirkwall's circle when I was there. Samson smuggled letters between him and his sweetheart, eventually Samson was caught. That's what led him to be cast out of the order. Maddox was made tranquil.” Varric visibly winced,  
“I think we'll let you tell 'Lea about that one, Curly.”  
“Wait, they made a man tranquil because of love letters?” Dorian asked, anger contorting his features.  
“The official charge was corrupting the moral integrity of a Templar.”  
“Meredith gave mages the brand for less.” Varric said quietly. Shame curled in Cullen's stomach as he remembered his own view on the rite of tranquillity. His opinions had changed drastically in the time since, but still...at one point he'd viewed the rite almost as a compromise. In some circumstances, even a blessing. It wasn't something he was proud of.  
“I'm starting to see why some people thought Kirkwall's chantry needed a good blowing up. The Templars there were tyrants.” Dorian spat.  
“Not all of them.” Varric said quietly. Cullen sent a grateful look in his direction, Varric gave him a small nod and Cullen continued.  
“Samson must have rescued him when the circle fell. After the explosion the worst of the battle took place in The Gallows, in the circle itself. I always assumed Maddox had died in the fighting. Kirkwall was not kind to the tranquil, I had been hoping he wasn't eking out a living on the streets, but to get caught up in all this?”  
“So Samson found him and took him in?”  
“So it would seem.”  
“A nice Templar?” Dorian asked, throwing his hands up in mock horror.  
“We're not all that bad.” Cullen grinned at him,  
“So you're thinking Samson still has some of his humanity? Part of who he used to be is still in there?” Varric asked,  
“I wouldn't go that far. Once he was made tranquil, Maddox went to work in the circle, making enchantments and other magical items. He was a natural. Even among the more experienced enchanters he stood out, Maddox had a gift. I think it more likely Samson just saw a valuable asset.”  
“A very valuable asset if what I'm reading is correct.” Dagna said, pulling her eyes away from the paper in her hand, “According to this, Maddox designed and made Samson's armour. Armour that he's infused with red lyrium.”  
“He's actually wearing red lyrium?” Varric asked, appalled.  
“That's what it looks like.”  
“So if we found some way to counteract it....” Varric continued thoughtfully,  
“We take his armour.” Cullen finished, Dagna was beaming at him, practically jumping up and down in her seat.  
“Back up a second.” Dorian interjected, waving his hands, “If this Maddox was able to infuse Samson's armour with red lyrium, then can we assume the tranquil are immune to it's effects?”  
“Maker, you're right.” Cullen breathed, his mind working a mile a minute, “It would also explain why The Seekers are immune.”  
“Because they're made tranquil as part of their initiation. Shit.” Varric had apparently reached the same conclusion Cullen had.  
“How many tranquil are in Skyhold?” Cullen asked,  
“More than you'd think, Minaeve brought some in and more came with the rebel mages.” Dorian replied,  
“Alright Dagna, you'll have your samples, work with the tranquil. Find out everything you can about the red lyrium but focus on Samson's armour. How it's made, and more importantly, how we can unmake it.”  
“I'll need lyrium forging equipment, a means of protecting Skyhold itself from infection....” Dagna hurried on excitedly but Cullen wasn't listening. The realisation had hit him like a smack in the face.  
“That's it.” Cullen croaked, he cleared his throat and tried again, “That's it! They'd have needed all sorts of special equipment to forge armour made from red lyrium. Some of it probably had to come from Orzammar. You can't move that sort of thing without leaving a trail. We've got them.”  
“Holy shit,” Varric breathed, “Curly, you genius! We just follow the trail.”  
“I knew you weren't just a pretty face!” Dorian laughed, pulling another bottle of wine out from his stash under the table, “I think this calls for a celebration.” The celebration was probably more than a little premature but that didn't stop Cullen from handing his glass to Dorian to be refilled.  
“I'll get our people out tracking forging equipment first thing in the morning.”

~*~ 

“We have him.” Ellana was at her desk when he jogged up the stairs in her quarters, map in hand. He rolled it out on the table in front of her, pointing out the fortress, “Right there, The Shrine of Dumat. We've finally got him.”  
“Thank the Maker. Once we deprive Corypheus of his general we'll be that much closer to ending this. I'll set out first thing tomorrow.”  
“I'd like to go with you. My duties normally keep me here but for Samson I'll make an exception.” Ellana leaned back in her chair, appraising him for a moment with narrowed eyes,  
“Why?”  
“Why?” Cullen almost sputtered, “Because it's Samson.”  
“Yes, I'm familiar with Samson.” She was all business as she watched him carefully, he tried very hard not to fidget. “He used to be a Templar. He's corrupted the order, turned it against it's purpose. But you also knew him personally, half the time I'm not sure who you're angrier with, him or Coryepheus. I can't say I blame you, sometimes I not sure which one is worse myself. But I need to know this isn't revenge. I won't take a compromised soldier into the field Cullen,” She softened her voice as she finished, “not even for you.”  
Cullen clenched his jaw, trying to get a hold on the anger that had quickly bubbled up under his skin,  
“I see.” He said through gritted teeth.  
“No, you really don't.” Ellana sighed before trying again, getting up from her chair to lean on the desk in front of him, crossing her arms over her chest “Try to put yourself in my position. If Rylan came to you with something this personal, what would your number one concern be?” Cullen took a deep breath, slamming the lid on his temper as he thought her question through. After a few moments deliberation he could see her point. An emotionally compromised solider was a danger to himself and those around him, he couldn't afford to take feelings onto the battlefield. He'd learned that in the circle. If a Templar became invested and froze at a crucial moment they became a liability, he'd seen for himself. But this wasn't the circle, this was Samson. He needed to be there, to make sure it was done, and to make sure they all came home afterwards. He wouldn't put Ellana and her companions in danger, he could leave his anger at Skyhold. He sighed.  
“If Rylan came to me with this, I'd be leaving him behind.” He admitted, “You're right, my number one concern would be that he was going to run off half-cocked and get himself, or his team, killed.”  
“Then you see my problem.”  
“The Samson I knew is already long dead. I want the monster that took his place. Samson hated The Chantry for what it did, the way it used good men through a leash of lyrium. But the things he's done? That's not Samson, not any more. Plus-”  
“Plus?”  
“Plus Samson still has his lyrium armour,” He answered, running his hands up her arms, “I would sleep better knowing I was at your side.” Ellana scrutinised him carefully for another moment before nodding. She unfolded her arms, her demeanour visibly softening again,  
“Alright.”  
“Alright?”  
“Andrastes ass Cullen, I'm not a dictator. I just needed to be sure you weren't going to do something stupid like storm a Red Templar stronghold on your own. This is personal for all of us, but more so for you.”  
“As much as I don't want to admit it, I'd probably ask the same question if I were you.”  
“Thank you.” She said, leaning up to kiss him lightly.  
“I was a Templar for a long time, I know how to take orders.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“You can't have two commanders on a battlefield. And you were right, I do have some personal investment in this mission, so I'll follow your lead. You know your own men better than I do. I'll admit to some curiosity too, I haven't seen you in battle before, it should be interesting.” The comment had been intended to make her smile, instead she stilled for a moment. A flash of what could be mistaken for fear crossed her face but it was gone so fast Cullen couldn't be sure he'd seen it at all.  
“What's wrong?”  
“Oh, nothing.” She replied, pushing some hair off her face, “So what do we know about The Shrine of Dumat?”

He'd been dreaming about Adament, about the interminable wait between Hawk and Ellana coming through the fade rift. He knew that in reality it had been a matter of seconds, but it had felt like hours. In his nightmares nothing emerged after Hawk but more demons. Then he'd turn around and find himself alone, everyone around him long since dead and turned to dust as he spent an eternity fighting the monsters spat out of the fade. Endlessly waiting for the return of someone that couldn't come back. The Inquisition had failed, fallen, and it was his fault. The demons relished in reminding him over and over. When the dreams were bad he'd reach for Ellana upon waking. The nightmares never stopped but not waking up alone helped, the comfort found in the warmth of another and the smell of her hair quickly grounding him. This time when he reached out he found the sheets cold. Eyes flying open, an instant of panic gripped his chest as the images left by his nightmare flittered through his mind. But she was there, sat on the edge of the bed, not trapped in the fade, and his mind relaxed. She was lost in thought and hadn't realised he was awake yet so he got a rare opportunity to observe her without her being aware of it. The long mane of wild, silver hair was pulled to the side, exposing her back and shoulders. An intricate pattern of tattoos spanned across one side of her rib cage, branching slightly onto her back. The dark clan markings that ran across her cheek bones and forehead were a serious right of passage for the Dalish, taken upon their coming of age. The tattoos on her ribs she'd gotten just for herself, a delicate design of flowers and vines. Every flower was slightly different and brightly coloured, each represented a person or story. New scars laced across the pale skin, the physical price of war. There was magic that would have removed them, he was sure, but she had made the decision to keep them. At least for now. She hadn't explained her reasoning, but she would. Her Inquisitor mask, the armour she wore for the world outside their room, was a barrier long dissolved between them and had since been widened to include a few select others. Dorian had been the first after him and it had gotten easier. One by one she was letting them in. Family, she'd called them.  
Right now her narrow shoulders were rounded, her elbows propped on her knees. Cullen didn't need to see her face to know something was upsetting her. Pushing the sheets to one side, he slid across the bed to sit behind her before running his lips along the outside of her neck.  
“Can't sleep?” She shook her head, “What's troubling you?”  
“You're going to think I'm insane.”  
“You run that risk either way.” She huffed a small laugh but didn't turn to look at him so he slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her back to lean on his chest. “You know we judged a man the other day that chose to retaliate for the death of his son by launching a goat at the building. Anything you say is going to seem sane by comparison.” He dropped his voice to a soothing murmur, “You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but it might help.”  
“Alright, but even I know how crazy this sounds so go easy on me. So you know I'm a mage?”  
“Yeah, I'd picked up on that, funnily enough.”  
“See? That's why I like you, you're sharp like that.” At least she was smiling now, he thought, a small smile but it's there, “So you know I'm a mage but you haven't seen me be a mage. Do you know what I mean?”  
“Er, you may need to run that by me again.”  
“Logically you know I cast, that I...hurt people with my magic. But seeing and knowing are two very different things. I don't know, I did warn you it was insane. I guess I'm just worried that it's going to change things, change how you see me.” Cullen's knee-jerk reaction was, of course, to deny what she was saying. He stopped himself, this wasn't the first time she'd worried about the effect her magic had on him. The first time he'd kissed her she'd said something similar. With a sense of irony he realised that if someone arrived tomorrow and tried to force her into a circle then he, an ex-Templar, would probably take her and run for Tevinter.  
“Ellana, look at me. Please.” He waited until she turned to meet his eyes. “Does my being an ex-Templar bother you?” He asked, trying to choose his words carefully, he had a gut feeling that this conversation was going to be a defining moment in their relationship, and he had a startling record of putting both his feet in his mouth. With alarming consistency.  
“Of course not. Why would it?”  
“For the same reasons you assume that you being a mage would bother me.”  
“That's different. I've never had any trouble with Templars. With the experiences you've had, you've every reason to fear magic. Experiences make us who we are, they shape us.”  
He took one of her hands in his and laced their fingers together,  
“That's actually a very good point. Most of my experiences with magic have been decidedly negative, but maybe we can do something about that.” He indicted their joined hands, “Show me. Make it cold.” Ellana immediately tried to pull her hand away, shaking her head. He held on firmly, soothing his thumb across the back of her hand, “If experiences shape a person then let's try a positive one. I've been given every reason to fear magic and I've given you every reason to doubt. You remember the first time I kissed you? I'd been wanting to do that for longer than I'd like to admit. Your magic didn't bother me then and it doesn't bother me now. Everything I fear about magic, I see none of that in you.”  
“But-”  
“I trust you. Make it cold.” He could see her pulse thrum in the hollow of her throat, her heart beating hard enough that he could feel it in her hand. No doubt she could see her own nerves mirrored in him. It was a gamble, he wasn't entirely sure what his own reaction was going to be, but he wanted to try. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he felt the chill spread from her hand and into his own. Cold mist seeped from between their joined fingers but still he didn't look away. A tingle spread down to his elbow, causing the fine, blonde hair on his arm to rise. Probably as much to his own surprise as hers, it wasn't entirely unpleasant. The panic he'd half expected to grip him never arrived, no tightness in his chest, no echoes of demons, no desperate cry for lyrium from the part of his mind that he feared would never escape Kinlock Hold. Instead a peace settled on him as he watched the fear recede from Ellana's eyes, slowly replaced by something akin to wonder as her lips pulled into a smile. “I don't love you despite your magic, I just love you, fireballs included. That's it. I wouldn't change a thing.” Her eyes started to glitter with what Cullen quickly realised were tears and panic really did start to grip him, Maker, I've said the wrong thing again! Before he could think of how to fix it she pressed her lips to his.  
“I love you too.” She said against his mouth. Her hand, still cold from her magic, moved across his chest to slip around his neck, ice trailed down his back sending pleasant shivers along his spine, “That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me.”  
“Please don't doubt how I feel about you.” Her mouth was distractingly close to his, he could feel the brush of her lips as they spoke.  
“Is that an order, Commander?” Moving his hands from her waist he ran his thumbs just under the curve of her breasts and felt as much as heard her sharp in-take of breath.  
“No, but as one of your advisors, I highly recommend it.”

As was her habit before any big mission Ellana, bought her team breakfast in the tavern before they set out the next day. Cullen had declined the offer to join them and spent the time getting their belongings and mounts prepared. She hadn't stopped smiling yet this morning and if he was reading the expressions of the guards correctly then he hadn't been able to keep the grin off his own face either. Cullen decided he didn't particularly care, everyone seemed to know about them anyway, why bother trying to hide it.  
Her eyes were practically dancing when she, Dorian, Varric and Bull met him at the entrance to Skyhold. Dorian gave him a questioning look and a raised brow, apparently interpreting Ellana's mood and coming to his own conclusions. Cullen just returned the look, getting a chuckle from the mage as Cullen handed him the reins to his mount.  
Ellana's good mood persisted all the way to The Shrine of Dumat. All jokes and bluster came to an end as their destination came into view. She stopped them in a small outcrop of trees, just out of sight of the fortress walls. Ellana receded and The Inquisitor took over,  
“We're going standard procedure until all the Red Templars are down. Dorian and Varric, at the back, left and right respectively, find cover. Shout directions of incoming hostiles if we don't see them. Take higher ground as soon as possible. Bull and I are going straight down the middle then we'll loop back for the wings, Cullen's got our flanks. Horrors and knights go down first.”  
It was strange for Cullen to see the little rituals they had with each other, he just shook his head, smiling fondly as he watched them. Ellana and Dorian hit their staffs together, Varric had bizarrely complicated high-fives for them all that Cullen somehow fumbled his way through, Iron Bull beat a rhythm on his chest that Ellana copied. She caught Cullen's eye and winked at him as she tucked her simple pony tail into the collar of her leathers before leading them out of the clearing. Cullen pulled his sword and shield free as they left the tree line, heading for the gate. Ellana, staff already in hand, rolled her shoulders and stretched her neck before looking back at them just as they reached the threshold,  
“Watch each others backs, everyone be safe-”  
“And if all else fails, let the crazy mage handle it.” The other three chorused in unison. Clearly another ritual that they-Cullen did a double take, Wait, what?! But it was too late, with a final twist of her neck that gave an audible crack she bared her teeth in a grin that could be classed as nothing else but dangerous,  
“Bull? Be a dear and get the door.”  
“It'll be my pleasure, boss.” Three swings of a giant axe later and the door was reduced to splinters. Ellana was first over the threshold, pointing Varric and Dorian into cover. The courtyard was long but not particularly wide, with staircases leading to balconies on either side. Cullen felt the tingle of Dorian's magic as he threw a barrier over them. His magic felt like the man himself, loud and brash. He shook the sensation away and focused. Lightening flew from Ellana's fingers, paralysing the Red Templar closest to them. Without needing to look she dropped her stance, letting Bull swing his axe over her head to fell the Templar with one mighty blow.  
“Cut off the stairs!” Ellana ordered. A split second later Dorian had erected an ice wall on one side and Varric had thrown spiked traps on the other, effectively stopping any enemies from coming up behind them, funnelling then to the front of the room. Ellana and Bull ran further inside, diving behind some boxes for cover, Cullen took the middle ground, the two of them in front with Varric and Dorian just behind him.  
He watched some silent communication pass between Ellana and Bull, she flashed the dangerous, almost feral, grin in Bulls direction, the huge Qunari nodded in return then, as one, they emerged from cover, splitting off in different directions. Bull roared, gaining the attention of the Red Templars. As they charged toward him Ellana conjured fire mines in their path, reducing two to ash and injuring a third. Racing up behind she finished the last one off with her spirit blade before vaulting into cover, just as the Templars on the right balcony began raining shards of red lyrium down on her.  
“That got their attention. Take the stairs!” She commanded, firing spells from her hiding place to keep their focus firmly on her. Cullen and Varric charged the right staircase, Bull and Dorian the left. With the Templars still targeting Ellana they quickly cleared the balcony before retaking cover. Peering around a crate, Cullen watched in horror as Ellana blocked the swing of a knights sword with her staff before sweeping around behind the creatures back and freezing it in place. Varric fired his crossbow and the Red Templar shattered. Before the pieces had hit the ground Ellana had moved on to the next enemy. He had to admit that her awareness of the battlefield was excellent, she knew where each member of her team was and trusted them to do their jobs, not even looking to check they were where they were supposed to be. It was the ultimate sign of trust, they completely relied on each other to keep themselves alive. It was this that had allowed them to go up against forces that far outnumbered their own. But she was a mage, a mage, for crying out loud. She wasn't supposed to be leading attacks.  
“Maker.” He whispered under his breath as Ellana launched herself at a Templar that was coming up behind Bull, using her spirit blade to halt the attack meant for the Qunari's back. Varric laughed at his side,  
“What's up, Curly? You expected her to lead from the back ranks?” Actually yes, that's exactly what he had been expecting. Cullen tightened the grip on his sword as the two of them left their cover to rejoin the others. With Varric and Dorian covering them from behind they quickly whittled the last of the remaining Red Templars down.  
They regrouped at the bottom of the stairs, just before the doors into the fortress. Varric was grinning as he slung his crossbow onto his back,  
“Hey, Enlea? I'm ahead now, by two.”  
“Not a chance, the frozen one doesn't count.” Ellana said, planting her hands on her hips, “I did half the work for you and-” She halted mid-sentence, glancing down at her feet before back up at the doors. Cullen felt the vibration a second after she did. Huge, thundering steps were heading straight for them.  
“Behemoth, take cover.” She hissed, darting to the side. An instant later it smashed through the doors. He felt Ellana's barrier spell fall over him, while the spell was essentially the same, the magic itself felt entirely different to Dorian's. Her magic was warm, full of energy and oddly comforting. With the staircase between them, Ellana caught Cullen's eye and held up three fingers. He nodded, drawing his sword. Three, two, one. They appeared on either side of the monster, Ellana throwing fire mines behind the creatures feet while Cullen charged, shield in front of him he ploughed into it, pushing it back onto her mines. It roared in anger as it stumbled to one knee, crossbow bolts and spells peppered it as he and Bull attacked with their weapons. Within moments it was down.  
“Well, that was anticlimactic.” Said Dorian, emerging from cover.  
“We've not got inside yet.” Ellana replied glancing at the doors. “Keep your weapons ready. Should we be worried we've not seen or heard from Samson?”  
“This is the heart of his command, Maker, tell me he hasn't fled.” 

Before they'd even reached the doorway Cullen could smell the smoke and had suspicions of what they would find inside.  
“Dammit,” Ellana said, kicking some rubble at her feet, “This place is already half destroyed.”  
“Samson must have ordered his Templars to sack his headquarters so we couldn't. He's probably already long gone.” Cullen replied bitterly.  
“Sorry Curly, someone tipped off Samson that you were coming.” Said Varric from beside him.  
“I think you're right. Still, we've dealt Samson a blow, he won't be using this base for a while. Let's look around, maybe we can salvage something” A roar echoed around the room.  
“Break time's over guys.” Ellana said, heading for the stairs.

The room hadn't taken long to clear between them. There'd been another heart-stopping moment for Cullen when Ellana had been sent flying across the room by a Red Templar with a tower shield. She'd always struggled with those, even in training. She'd bounced back quickly, and with him and Bull acting as distractions, she'd got a hit onto his unprotected back and the Templar had dropped. He was stood lost in thought as he watched her and Dorian quickly leaf through some information they'd found before venturing further inside.  
“Your face is going to stick like that, Curly.” Varric said, appearing next to him, “You don't need to worry so much about 'Lea, she knows what she's doing.”  
“I'm starting to notice that.” He replied dryly. He really was. After getting over the initial shock of seeing a mage throw herself into battle as though she were carrying a broadsword instead of a staff, he'd started to see that what he'd first taken as recklessness was, instead, an almost desperate need to protect those around her. The idea of a Dalish elf needing to protect a Qunari should have been ridiculous, Bull was almost twice her height and outweighed her at least three times over, but somehow it wasn't. She had a presence on the battlefield that was far larger than her small stature would have people believe. And she was good. He'd gotten so used to only thinking of two types of mages. The type to use blood magic that craved power and the kind that used healing spells and barriers that protected. Ellana was neither. She was a warrior. A Valkyrie that wielded magic instead of a blade. Cullen found it far more appealing than he wanted to. She was in control, she was always in control. The closest he'd come to see her really let go was when they were together, when she came apart for him. Even then she was holding back, he realised. She had to in order to stay in control of her magic. Suddenly all he could think of was how much he wanted to see her lose control, to let go, for just a moment. And exactly what it would take to make that happen. Shaking himself with the realisation that his thoughts had wandered into dangerous territory, he forced himself to focus and noticed that Varric was still talking next to him,  
“-in fact this is actually quite good for her. She's not pushed Bull out of the way yet. Or stolen anyone else's kills. Best behaviour.”  
“Really?” Cullen asked, looking sceptical.  
“Oh yeah, you should come dragon hunting with us some time.” Maker, that would probably kill me, Cullen thought. Out loud he said,  
“Dr-dragon hunting?”  
“Did I say dragon?” Varric replied, mistaking his discomfort for disapproval, “Oh no, I meant fluffy bunny hunting. Oh, look, they're ready to go.”  
“According to the plans we only have two rooms left.” Ellana told them, “If there's anything important left it's going to be in the back. It's also likely to be well protected. Be careful.”

Cullen was suspicious the moment he noticed that only two Templars guarded the doors to the last room, surely it couldn't be this easy? Something was amiss. That something was revealed the second they engaged the knights,  
“Shit. We've got Shadows using stealth!” Varric shouted, “Don't let them touch you!”  
“Easier said than done!” Bull bellowed back, being the largest and slowest of the group the nimble Shadows could outmanoeuvre his axe.  
“Bull, fall back.” Ellana ordered. Cullen moved up to take Bull's place, once again feeling the warmth of Ellana's barrier before lightening filled the air, paralysing the Shadows. He and Ellana managed to take one down and Varric had injured a second before the effects of her lightening spell wore off and they disappeared again. He turned so that his back was to Ellana's and they circled, waiting for the attack. He heard her sharp gasp as a Shadow materialised in front of her, she blocked the shard of red lyrium meant for her face with her staff just in time,  
“Left.” Cullen barked, he felt the shift of her body as he span his sword, bringing the blade past them both to impale it.  
“Head count, Varric?” Ellana called,  
“Two left.”  
“Come out, come out wherever you are.” He heard her sing-song under her breath. “There!” She said, much louder, as she sent a freezing spell at a shimmer she'd spotted. As it froze Cullen darted froward, crushing it with his shield. One left. Before he could turn around Ellana shouted,  
“Cullen, down.” Without hesitation he dropped, the attack from the Shadow sailed over his head, quickly followed by Ellana's spirit blade, shattering the red lyrium that passed for the creatures arm. He swept a leg behind him, catching it behind the knees, as it fell Cullen plunged his sword into it's chest. The feral grin was back in place when he looked over at her, sending his thoughts spiralling into the gutter and what felt like every drop of blood in his body in the opposite direction of his brain. Focus Rutherford! He commanded himself, you can think about how sexy The Inquisitor is kicking ass when you're NOT in a Red Templar stronghold!

Their discovery behind the last door cleared his thoughts thoroughly, giant pieces of red lyrium grew from the floor all around them, the banner of the Red Templars covered every wall and in the middle of it all was a young man. Cullen crouched at the man's side,  
“Hello Inquisitor.” He said, his voice devoid of any inflection.  
“You know me?” Ellana asked him.  
“This is Maddox, Samson's tranquil.” She looked at the man in sympathy. Most mages disliked the rite of tranquillity, Ellana detested it with a passion. She considered execution kinder, that living as a tranquil, living with no sense of self, was worse than death. The Dalish didn't use the rite, it was a practice used only by The Circle. They described it as magical castration and should only be used as a last resort, though Cullen had seen The Circle abuse the rite on more than one occasion. Maddox was one of those cases. “Something's wrong, I'll send for a healer.”  
“That would be a waste, Knight-Captain Cullen.” Maddox replied, the eerie even tone making the hair on the back of Cullen's neck stand on end, “I drank my entire supply of blight-cap essence, it won't be long now.”  
“We only wanted to ask you questions Maddox, we wouldn't have hurt you.” Ellana said, hunkering down next to him.  
“Yes Inquisitor, that is what I couldn't allow. I destroyed the camp with fire, we all agreed it was best. Our deaths ensured Samson had time to escape.”  
“You threw your lives away? For Samson? Why?” Cullen couldn't keep the incredulity out of his voice.  
“Samson saved me even before he needed me,” Maddox replied, “He gave me purpose again. I wanted to help.” Maddox had breathed his last. The lilt and inflection of his voice didn't change, didn't waver, as he died. There was no fear, no desperation as he fruitlessly clung onto life. At one time Cullen would have considered this a blessing; to face death with no fear. It wasn't. The tranquil weren't blessed with a lack of fear, they were cursed by a lack of desire. Even the desire to live.  
Cullen hung his head, such a waste of life. And for what? This? For the minion of a creature hell-bent on destroying the world? With a sigh he got to his feet,  
“A dismal place to die.” Cullen said before looking around, “Can't have been much of a place to live either, under Samson's command.”  
“What else do you remember about him? Samson, I mean. The man he used to be?”  
“What does it matter now? “He used to be kind” only gets you so far. On the other hand,” Cullen shrugged, “Maddox died to help him escape, Samson does command loyalty. It looks like we interrupted though, we should search the camp, Maddox may have missed something.”  
“Already started,” Varric said, tossing an empty lyrium bottle to Ellana. “Licked clean. Drinking it, growing it, wearing it. You can't say Samson isn't committed.”  
“How much red lyrium is Samson taking? His resistance must be extraordinary.”  
“There's a whole collection of empty bottles back there, Curly,” Varric replied, “I think it's safe to say he's more lyrium than man at this point.”  
“I've got something.” Dorian called, he'd been searching a desk, “It has your name written all over it Commander. Literally.” He waved a piece of paper in Cullen's direction. Taking the paper he gave it a quick once over before rolling his eyes,  
“What does it say?” Ellana asked,  
““Drink enough lyrium and the song reveals the truth. The Chantry used us. You're fighting the wrong battle. Corypheus chose me as his general and his vessel of power.” It goes on like that for a while. Well if this is Samson's idea of remaking the world, I think I prefer yours.”  
They headed back out the way they came, looking carefully for anything they may have missed. A glint of steel caught Cullen's eye,  
“Hello, what's this? The fire couldn't destroy these entirely. Whatever they are.” Cullen turned the tools he'd found over in his hands, Dorian appeared, looking over his shoulder,  
“These are lyrium forging implements. Of remarkable design. Intact they'd be worth a fortune”  
“Tranquil often design their own tools, Dagna might be able to get some use out of them. If Maddox used these to make Samson's armour, maybe she can use them to unmake it.” Relief at finding something here other than death washed over him.  
Allowing the others to go on ahead, Ellana hung back.  
“Are you alright?” She asked him quietly,  
“I will be once Dagna gets something useful from all this. It's such a waste. I'm going to have someone retrieve Maddox's body and lay him to rest properly. Even Samson did right by him, we can't do any less.”  
“That's a good idea.” She gave his fingers a quick squeeze and they headed outside.

He was pretty sure Ellana thought he'd lost his mind as he impatiently followed her over half of Skyhold. He wasn't entirely sure she'd be wrong. Dropping the tools off with Dagna and their own weapons and armour in The Undercroft made sense, but did she really need to check in with everyone? She'd shot a few concerned looks over her shoulder at him and had asked once out of the corner of her mouth if everything was OK, the terse nod he'd given her in response hadn't helped. All he could think about was making her lose control, he didn't have the words to articulate how much he needed it. To just see her let go of the tight, neurotic, coil she kept herself so wound up in. 

Eventually she led them back through the main hall and to her quarters. He followed her silently up the stairs, gripping the banisters hard enough to make it creak to stop himself from throwing her over his shoulder and running them both up the rest of the way. Cullen shifted from foot to foot as she fumbled with the lock to her door, he'd been fighting with himself for control all day, if she didn't get this door open soon-  
“Look Cullen, I-” She eventually got the lock undone. Finally! The second it was open Cullen shoved them both through, slamming the door closed behind them and pushing Ellana up against it's hard surface. He finally did what his body had been screaming at him to do since The Shrine of Dumat and crushed his mouth down on hers. The relief was instantaneous, enough to send a rumble from his chest and make his head spin. At first all he could do was absorb, his arms braced on the door, Ellana's soft, eager mouth on his, her smell invading his senses. Until he felt like he was drowning in his need for her. Then the image of her wielding her spirit blade flashed through his mind again and he looped an arm around her slim waist, pulling against him. The other hand pulling the band from her hair, freeing the silver mane of her hair to spill down her back. She grabbed handfuls of the fur on his mantle, straining on her toes to get closer. He was more than happy to oblige. She gave a happy little yelp of surprise when he swung her up into his arms, letting her wrap her legs around his waist. He pinned her between his body and the door, freeing his hands to run from her waist, over the gentle swell of her hips, down the back of her thighs and back up again, loving her subtle curves even through her leathers. She hummed her approval against his mouth, a sound which quickly became a moan when he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, teasing his way along it with the tip of his tongue. Pulling herself higher on his furs she kissed him back, just as hard, just as desperately. Sharp little nips against his lips, making his hips involuntarily jerk forward. Pulling her head back she looked him right in the eye as she rolled her hips, slowly, deliberately, against his, her eyes glittering with challenge. Maker, help him! With a low rumble that was closer to a growl he turned them from the door and towards the last few steps to her bedroom. She laughed low and husky before her nimble fingers went to work on the clasps of his cloak, her mouth peppering his face and jaw with hot, scalding, little kisses that made him stumble. She finally got the clasp of his cloak undone, giving her access to his neck just as Cullen got them to the top of the stairs. Ellana's huge four poster bed beckoned. Three large steps later and he had her pressed up against one of the posts, his hips pinning her in place and his mouth found hers again. His tongue gliding over hers, sucking her bottom lip between his own until she melted into him. Trailing his lips down her neck and throat, he could feel the erratic thrum of her pulse under his mouth as he sought out all the sensitive places he'd so carefully learned. Pulling her shirt out from her leathers he ran his hands across the smooth planes of her stomach, the muscles jumping and tensing under his hands. Raising higher until his thumbs ran under the curve of each breast and she hissed between her teeth, grinding her hips harder into his, driving him crazy. Cullen could swear he could feel the heat of her against the hard jut that was straining against his trousers. He really couldn't wait any longer, he heard the thud of her toeing her boots off as he pulled her shirt over her head and threw it unceremoniously over one shoulder, her low throaty laugh started again and swiftly became a moan when he trailed his hand over the vines of her tattoos across her ribs and up, until his fingers swept across her breast, just brushing her hard nipple. She arched her back off the bed post, trying to push more of herself into his hand.  
“Touch me Cullen, please.” She begged, breath ragged. He didn't think he could have objected if he'd tried. Palming one breast, the pad of his thumb sweeping across the hard bud, he dropped his head to the other. Sucking her into his mouth through the lace of her bra. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and her legs tightened around his waist as he circled her taunt nipple with his tongue before nudging the fabric to one side and taking her in his mouth again, the stubble of his face scratching at her soft skin. Carefully teasing her with his tongue and teeth until she cried out, one of her hands crept into his hair, tugging him roughly back to her mouth again as she pushed them away from the bed post. Cullen half fell, half lowered them to the bed in a tangle of limbs. He kicked off his own boots as she pulled his tunic up and over his head. Then, with her legs still wrapped around his waist, she flipped them over until she was sitting up and straddling him, slipping her bra off in what seemed like one fluid motion. She bit her bottom lip and Cullen saw just a split second of indecision in her eyes before she placed her finger tips on his chest. Tiny pinpricks of ice spread from where she touched him. He hissed through his teeth as icy tendrils skittered across his chest. She grinned wickedly at him before dipping her head, replacing her cool finger tips with her warm mouth,  
“Holy shit, Ellana,” He ground out. Her shoulders shook in silent mirth as she chased the cold spots on his skin with her lips and tongue, the ice from her hands mixing with the scalding heat of her mouth was incredible. Cullen had never felt anything like it. Her fingers danced across his chest before she walked them lower, across his stomach to the laces of his trousers. She traced the outline of him through the fabric, he was straining so hard against the lacing it was almost painful. She lowered herself down his body, hot kisses trailing over his ribs and belly. She nudged him and he lifted his hips, moaning in relief when she pulled the laces free and tugged his trousers down his legs. He felt more than saw her remove the rest of her clothing before settling back between his legs. She paused, he could feel her warm breath on him, drawing out her teasing until he almost couldn't stand it. Just when he thought he'd lose his mind with his need for her, soft fingers trailed up his thigh, higher, across his hips to finally circle him at his base. A low growl escaped from his chest, quickly followed by a groan as she ran the tip of her tongue along his length, around the tip before taking him into her mouth. He fought to contain the buck of his hips but was powerless against it when she swirled her tongue around him and gently, carefully, sucked. He hadn't thought it possible that he could get any more aroused, he was, apparently, wrong. Maker, nothing has ever felt this good! Blood pumping through his body, his heart pounding loudly in his ears he fought for control as her hand moved. Firm, even strokes that made him ache for her, for release. With the last shred of his self control he twisted his fingers into her hair, gently tugging her off him, she looked up at him in surprise,  
“What's wrong?” Her voice low and husky,  
“Wrong? Nothing's wrong but if you don't stop you might actually kill me.” She grinned evilly at him, tightening her hand on him once more. His eyes slammed shut, jaw clenched as he fought the oblivion that tried to drag him down, to just take her now, no, not yet.  
“I can think of worse ways to die.” She teased before he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back up the bed. She laughed when he switched their positions so she was sprawled beneath him, the sound was completely carefree and happy, Maker, he could spent the rest of his life in this bed making her laugh like that. He dragged his gaze along her body, long willowy legs, narrow hips, soft, firm breasts, long, graceful neck. Then he met her eyes again.  
“Makers breath, you really are beautiful.” He whispered, dipping his head to nuzzle the joint between her shoulder and neck. She hummed her approval, tilting her chin to give him better access.  
“So are you.” She replied huskily, sliding her arms around his neck to twist her fingers into his hair. She arched her back of the bed, rolling her hips against him in silent invitation.  
He pulled away far enough to rest his forehead on hers and look into her eyes.  
“I need you to trust me, let me see all of it, all of you. I want you to let go, stop being in control.” He could see the war between temptation and fear wage behind her eyes. Her almost desperate need to break down the last barrier she'd put around herself and the fear of what would happen if she did.  
“I do trust you, I don't trust it. I don't want to hurt you.”  
“You won't. Can you trust me, if you can't trust yourself? I trust you, and I trust your magic.” And just like that he saw the fear in her eyes vanish. He knew that feeling, it was exactly the way he'd felt under her total, unshakeable belief that he didn't need the lyrium. She may not entirely trust or believe in her magic, but he did, and that was enough.  
“That I can do.” Something in his chest roared in triumph as she leaned up to kiss him, to seal the pact they had somehow made, to trust in each other, even when they couldn't trust in themselves.  
He took the kiss deeper, hungrily sweeping his tongue across hers. Running his hand up her side from her hip to her breast, teasing her hard nipple until she was trembling under his hands and whimpering against his mouth.  
He pulled his mouth from hers to run down her neck and throat, feeling her pulse flutter madly under her skin, lower, between the soft mounds of her breasts then taking each hard bud into his mouth in turn. Inch by torturous inch he relearned the exact feel and taste of every patch of skin he could reach, every scar, every freckle. He traced the vines of her tattoo, first with his fingers then his tongue, until she was a shaking, gorgeous mess. Then, and only then, did he lower himself further.  
“Let go for me, Ellana,” He whispered against her inner thigh, running a teasing finger along her wet folds, slick and soft against the rough pad of his finger tip. She moaned in response, hands fisting tightly in the sheets as he ran his tongue across the soft skin of her inner thigh, her hips coming up off the bed. Taking her hip in one hand he held her still and ran the flat of his tongue along her, relishing in her taste and her gasped moan. He circled her clit with his tongue, dipping the tip of his finger into her. Her arms reached over her head to grab the headboard, cold mist seeping from between her fingers. So close to coming completely undone. He alternated between long strokes of his tongue and circles, his fingers still teasing her opening, until her gasps turned to whimpers and she writhed under him,  
“Please Cullen, please-” His moan matched hers as he slipped his finger inside her, her back arched off the mattress and he carefully took her clit between his lips, sucking gently, flicking her with his tongue. He ground his hips into the bed, his need a living thing; hard and throbbing. Desperately needing her to let go, to stop being in control. He needs it more than he needs his next breath. She wants it too, needs it, to dissolve the last of her own fear of her magic. The last barrier between them. She's so close. So so close.  
“I can't.” It was almost a sob, “I want to, but I-”  
“You can.” His words a subconscious echo of the ones she's said to him when he'd had his doubts about the lyrium. Sitting up he pulled her up and against his chest until she was kneeling over him, he nudged her knees apart with his own until she was straddling him. He could feel the heat of her on him, nearly undoing him completely. He reined himself in with a deep, shuddering breath. One hand gripping her hip, the other cradling the back of her neck, gently nudging her until her forehead pressed against his, “Ellana, look at me.” He whispered, her eyes, darkened with desire, latched onto his. With agonising slowness the hand gripping her hip lowered her onto him. They both moaned as he filled her, she was so wet, so incredibly wet, and so hot. He clenched his jaw against his own driving need, giving her a moment to adjust to him before he started to rock his hips carefully. She picked up on his rhythm, grinding onto him, he let her take over, starting slow and building them both higher. Harder, faster. She teetered on the edge, so very close. He moved his hand from her hip to her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers before trailing his fingers under each curve, down between their bodies, sliding lower to run over her swollen clit. Her breath coming in short, ragged breaths as she raked her fingers over his shoulders and down his back, leaving trails of ice in their wake. He kissed and sucked his way down one side of her neck, across her collar bones and up the other side before claiming her lips. She groaned into his mouth, her tongue twining around his until she was gasping for breath, for release. He pulled back, pressing his forehead back to hers, eyes locked with hers.  
“Let go. I trust you.” He whispered, running his hand from her neck down to the small of her back he held her closer to him, still rubbing gentle circles around her clit, and thrust. Hard. Slamming his hips against hers. And finally, mercifully she did. He saw the control finally snap in her eyes before she threw her head back, crying his name, fingers digging into his shoulders as her walls clamped around him. The air around them sparked with her magic, a joyful explosion as warm and full of life as she was. It was the most glorious thing Cullen had ever seen, she was incredible. A few hard thrusts later and he was right behind her, stars burst behind his eyes, her name on his lips as he spilled himself inside her.  
For a few moments everything was dark, his mind completely, blissfully, empty of anything even resembling coherent thought. Slowly the world fell back into place, he became aware of Ellana draped over him, her fingers still clinging to his back, face buried in his neck. He could feel her warm breath on his skin, deep, ragged breaths that pushed her breasts into his chest. Her heart racing under his. He was perfectly happy to just stay there absorbing, until he felt something cold fall onto his back. Sleepily opening his eyes he glanced up at the ceiling and smiled,  
“Ellana?” He whispered,  
“Mmm?” She murmured against his neck.  
“Ellana?” He tried again,  
“Ellana isn't here right now, please try again later.” Only she could make terrible jokes when she didn't seem capable of moving. He kissed her bare shoulder before whispering in her ear,  
“Open your eyes love, you have to see this.” She reluctantly pulled away to look at him, eyes already half lidded with sleep. He lifted an eyebrow at her before looking back to the ceiling, she followed his gaze and starred, eyes now wide in surprise, “I'd forgotten how beautiful magic can be.”  
“So had I. Thank you for reminding me.” They sat in silence for a few moments while he watched her trace her eyes across the ceiling. “It's like-”  
“The lake at Haven.” Patterns of frost stretched across the ceiling, loops, swirls and what looked like flower blossoms. Tiny snowflakes fell from the design to land soundlessly around them, “And your tattoo.” He traced the pattern on her ribs with the side his thumb.  
“I remember, you found me on the dock. That was the night before we decided to recruit the mages. That was the day I started to fall in love with you.”  
“It was?” He asked in surprise, pulling his eyes from the ceiling to look at her,  
“You were so mistrustful of magic, I knew something must have happened to leave such deep scars. But you put it aside to help them. Their need was more important than your demons. I didn't know what it was until I had to leave you behind in the chantry but looking back now? That's when it happened.”  
This, apparently, used up the last of her energy as she collapsed back onto his neck with a contented sigh. Reluctantly Cullen finally had to move, picking her up with him he shifted them both back up to the top of the bed, pulling her boneless and fluid body flush against his as sleep claimed them both. For once utterly and completely at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a really hard time writing the end of this chapter, I really hope you enjoyed it! Any comments, suggestions etc are always welcome! Feel free to let me know what you think. Thanks for reading.


End file.
